Five Run Away Together Part 1

Five Run Away Together.

By Enid Blyton.

Chapter One

It was exciting, remembering all the things that had happened last year. It made George long all the more for the next day, when her three friends would arrive.

"I wish Mother would let us go and live on the island for a week," thought George. "That would be the greatest fun we could have. To live on my very own island!"

It was George's island. It really belonged to her mother, but she had said, two or three years back, that George could have it, and George now thought of it as really her own. She felt that all the rabbits on it belonged to her, all the wild birds and other creatures.

"I'll suggest that we go there for a week, when the others come," she thought, excitedly. "We'll take our food and everything, and live there quite by ourselves. We shall feel like Robinson Crusoe."

She went to meet her cousins the next day, driving the pony and trap by herself. Her mother wanted to come, but she said she did not feel very well. George felt a bit worried about her. So often lately her mother had said she didn't feel very well. Perhaps it was the heat of the summer. The weather had been so very hot lately. Day after day had brought nothing but blue sky and sunshine. George had been burnt a dark-brown, and her eyes were startlingly blue in her sunburnt face. She had had her hair cut even shorter than usual, and it really was difficult to know whether she was a boy or a girl.

The train came in. Three hands waved madly from a window, and George shouted in delight.

"Julian! d.i.c.k! Anne! You're here at last."

The three children tumbled pell-mell out of their carriage. Julian yelled to a porter.

"Our bags are in the guard's van. Hallo, George! How are you? Golly, you've grown."

They all had. They were all a year older and a year bigger than when they had had their exciting adventures on Kirrin Island. Even Anne, the youngest, didn't look such a small girl now. She flung herself on George, almost knocking her over, and then went down on her knees beside Timothy, who was quite mad with joy to see his three friends.

There was a terrific noise. They all shouted their news at once, and Timothy barked without stopping. "We thought the train would never get here!"

"Oh Timothy, you darling, you're just the same as ever!"

"Woof, woof, woof!"

"Mother's sorry she couldn't come and meet you too."

"George, how brown you are! I say, aren't we going to have fun."

"WOOF, WOOF!"

"Shut up, Tim darling, and do get down; you've bitten my tie almost in half. Oh, you dear old dog, it's grand to see you!"

"WOOF!"

The porter wheeled up their luggage, and soon it was in the pony-cart. George clicked to the waiting pony, and it cantered off. The five in the little cart all talked at once at the top of their voices, Tim far more loudly than anyone else, for his doggy voice was strong and powerful.

"I hope your mother isn't ill?" said Julian, who was fond of his Aunt f.a.n.n.y. She was gentle and kind, and loved having them all.

"I think it must be the heat," said George.

"What about Uncle Quentin?" asked Anne. "Is he all right?"

The three children did not very much like George's father, because he could get into very fierce tempers, and although he welcomed the three cousins to his house, he did not really care for children. So they always felt a little awkward with him, and were glad when he was not there.

"Father's all right," said George, cheerfully. "Only he's worried about Mother. He doesn't seem to notice her much when she's well and cheerful, but he gets awfully upset if anything goes wrong with her. So be a bit careful of him at the moment. You know what he's like when he's worried."

The children did know. Uncle Quentin was best avoided when things went wrong. But not even the thought of a cross uncle could damp them today. They were on holiday; they were going to Kirrin Cottage; they were by the sea, and there was dear old Timothy beside them, and fun of all kinds in store for them.

"Shall we go to Kirrin Island, George?" asked Anne. "Do let's! We haven't been there since last summer. The weather was too bad in the winter and Easter holidays. Now it's gorgeous."

"Of course we'll go," said George, her blue eyes shining. "Do you know what I thought? I thought it would be marvellous to go and stay there for a whole week by ourselves! We are older now, and I'm sure Mother would let us."

"Go and stay on your island for a week!" cried Anne. "Oh! That would be too good to be true."

"Our island," said George, happily. "Don't you remember I said I would divide it into four, and we'd all share it? Well, I meant it, you know. It's ours, not mine."

"What about Timothy?" said Anne. "Oughtn't he to have a share as well? Can't we make it five bits, one for him too?"

"He can share mine," said George. She drew the pony to a stop, and the four children and the dog gazed out across the blue bay. "There's Kirrin Island," said George. "Dear little island. I can hardly wait to get to it now. I haven't been able to go there yet, because my boat wasn't mended."

"Then we can all go together," said d.i.c.k. "I wonder if the rabbits are just as tame as ever."

"Woof!" said Timothy at once. He had only to hear the word "rabbits" to get excited.

"It's no good your thinking about the rabbits on Kirrin," said George. "You know I don't allow you to chase them, Tim."

Timothy's tail dropped and he looked mournfully at George. It was the only thing on which he and George did not agree. Tim was firmly convinced that rabbits were meant for him to chase, and George was just as firmly convinced that they were not.

"Get on!" said George to the pony, and jerked the reins. The little creature trotted on towards Kirrin Cottage, and very soon they were all opposite the front gate.

A sour-faced woman came out from the back door to help them down with their luggage. The children did not . know her.

"Who's she?" they whispered to George.

"The new cook," said George. "Joanna had to go and look after her mother, who broke her leg. Then Mother got this cook-Mrs. Stick her name is."

"Good name for her," grinned Julian. "She looks a real old stick! But all the same I hope she doesn't stick here for long. I hope Joanna comes back. I liked old fat Joanna, and she was nice to Timmy."

"Mrs. Stick has a dog too," said George. "A dreadful animal, smaller than Tim, all sort of mangy and moth-eaten. Tim can't bear it."

"Where is it?" asked Anne, looking round.

"It's kept in the kitchen, and Tim isn't allowed near it," said George. "Good thing too, because I'm sure he'd eat it! He can't think what's in the kitchen, and goes sniffing round the shut door till Mrs. Stick nearly goes mad."

The others laughed. They had all climbed down from the pony-cart now, and were ready to go indoors. Julian had helped Mrs. Stick in with all the bags. George took the pony-cart away, and the other three went in to say how-do-you-do to their uncle and aunt.

"Well, dears," said Aunt f.a.n.n.y, smiling at them from the sofa where she was lying down. "How are you all? I'm sorry I could not come to meet you. Uncle Quentin is out _for a walk. You had better go upstairs, and wash and change. Then come down for tea."

The boys went up to their old bedroom, with its queer slanting roof, and its window looking out over the bay. Anne went to the little room she shared with George. How good it was to be back again at Kirrin! What fun they would have these holidays with George and dear old Timmy!

Chapter Two.

THE STICK FAMILY.

IT was lovely to wake up the next morning at Kirrin Cottage and see the sun shining in at the windows, and to hear the far-off plash-plash-plash of the sea. It was gorgeous to leap out of bed and rush to see how blue the sea was, and how lovely Kirrin Island looked at the entrance of the>bay.

"I'm going for a bathe before breakfast," said Julian, and s.n.a.t.c.hed up his bathing trunks. "Coming, d.i.c.k?"

"You bet!" said d.i.c.k. "Call the girls. We'll all go."

So down they went, the four of them, with Tim galloping behind them, his tail wagging nineteen to the dozen, and his long pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. He went into the water with the others, and swam all round them. They were all good swimmers', but Julian and George were the best.

They put towels round themselves, rubbed their bodies dry and pulled on jeans and jerseys. Then back to breakfast they went, as hungry as hunters. Anne noticed a boy in the back garden and stared in surprise.

"Who's that?" she said.

"Oh, that's Edgar, Mrs. Stick's boy," said George. "I don't like him. He does silly things, like putting out his tongue and calling rude names."

Edgar appeared to be singing when the others went in at the gate. Anne stopped to listen.

"Georgie-Porgie, pudding and pie!" sang Edgar, a silly look on his face. He seemed about thirteen or fourteen, a stupid, yet sly-looking youth. "Georgie-porgie pudding and pie!"

George went red. "He's always singing that," she said, furiously. "Just because I'm called "George", I suppose. He thinks he's clever. I can't bear him."

Julian called out to Edgar. "You shut up! You're not funny, only jolly silly!"

"Georgie-porgie," began Edgar again, a silly smile on his wide red face. Julian made a step towards him, and he at once disappeared into the house.

"Shan't stand much of him," said Julian, in a decided voice. "I wonder you do, George. I wonder you haven't slapped his face, stamped on his foot, bitten his ears off and done a few other things! You used to be so fierce."

"Well-I am still, really," said George. "I feel frightfully fierce down inside me when I hear Edgar singing silly songs at me like that and calling out names-but you see, Mother really hasn't been well, and I know jolly well if I go for Edgar, Mrs. Stick will leave, and poor old Mother would have to do all the work, and she really isn't fit to at present. So I just hold myself in, and hope that Timmy will do the same."

"Good for you, old thing!" said Julian, admiringly, for he knew how hard it was for George to keep her temper at times.

"I think I'll just go up to Mother's room and see if she'd like breakfast in bed," said George.

"Hang on to old Timmy a moment, will you? If Edgar appears again, he might go for him."

Julian hung on to Timmy's collar. Timmy had growled when Edgar had been in the garden, now he stood stock still, his nose twitching as if he were trying to trace some smell.

Suddenly a mangy-looking dog appeared out of the kitchen door. It had a dirty white coat, out of which patches seemed to have been bitten, and its tail was well between its legs.

"Wooooof!" said Timmy, joyfully, and leapt at the dog. He pulled Julian over, for he was a big dog, and the boy let go his hold of the dog's collar. Timmy pounced excitedly on the other dog, who gave a fearful whine and tried to go into the kitchen door again.

"Timmy! Come here, sir!" yelled Julian. But Timmy didn't hear. He was busy trying to snap off the other dog's ears-or at least, that is what he appeared to be doing. The other dog yelled for help, and Mrs. Stick appeared at the kitchen door, a saucepan in her hand.

"Call off that dog!" she screeched. She hit out at Timmy with the saucepan, but he dodged and it hit her own dog instead, making it yelp all the more.

"Don't hit out with that!" said Julian. "You'll hurt the dogs. Hi, Timmy, TIMMY!"

Edgar now appeared, looking very scared. He picked up a stone and seemed to be watching his chance to hurl it at Timmy. Anne shrieked.

"You're not to throw that stone; you're not to! You bad wicked boy!"

In the middle of all this turmoil Uncle Quentin appeared, looking angry and irritable.

"Good heavens! What is all this going on? I never heard such a row in my life."

Then George appeared, flying out of the door like the wind, to rescue her beloved Timothy. She rushed to the two dogs and tried to pull Timmy away. Her father yelled at her.

"Come away, you little idiot! Don't you know better than to separate two fighting dogs with your bare hands? Where's the garden hose?"

It was fixed to a tap nearby. Julian ran to it and turned on the tap. He picked up the hose and turned it on the two dogs. At once the jet of water spurted out at them, and they leapt apart in surprise. Julian saw Edgar standing near, and couldn't resist swinging the hose a little so that the boy was soaked. He gave a scream and ran in at once. .

"What did you do that for?" said Uncle Quentin, annoyed. "George, tie Timothy up at once. Mrs. Stick didn't I tell you not to let your dog out of the kitchen unless .you had him on a lead? I won't have this kind of thing happening. Where's the breakfast? Late as usual!"

Mrs. Stick disappeared into the kitchen, muttering and grumbling, taking her drenched dog with her. George, looking sulky, tied Timothy up. He lay down in his kennel, looking beseechingly at his mistress.

"I've told you not to take any notice of that mangy-looking dog," said George, severely. "Now you see what happens! You put Father into a bad temper for the rest of the day, and Mrs. Stick will be so angry she won't make any cakes for tea!"

Timmy gave a whine, and put his head down on his paws. He licked a few hairs from the corner of his mouth. It was sad to be tied up-but anyhow he had bitten a bit off the tip of one of that dreadful dog's ears!

They all went in to breakfast. "Sorry I let Timmy go," said Julian to George. "But he nearly tore my arm off. I couldn't possibly hold him! He's grown into an awfully powerful dog, hasn't he?"

"Yes," said George, proudly. "He has. He could eat Mrs. Stick's dog up in a mouthful if we'd let him. And Edgar too."

"And Mrs. Stick," said Anne. "All .of them. I don't like any of them."

Breakfast was rather a subdued meal, as Aunt f.a.n.n.y was not there, but Uncle Quentin was-and Uncle Quentin in a bad temper was not a very cheerful person to have at the breakfast-table. He snapped at George and glared at the others. Anne almost wished they hadn't come to Kirrin Cottage! But her spirits rose when she thought of the rest of the day-they would take their dinner out, perhaps, and have it on the beach-or maybe even go out to Kirrin Island. Uncle Quentin wouldn't be with them to spoil things.